


I ask of you

by Crimson_Voltaire



Series: Kinktober 2017 [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Begging, Dom/sub, F/M, Office Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2019-01-09 00:55:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12265620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crimson_Voltaire/pseuds/Crimson_Voltaire
Summary: She's done all he asked. She's been on edge all day. And he's smirking at her, giving her that little knowing smile that has Tina almost pulling her hair out in frustration.---Day 4 of Kinktober - Begging





	I ask of you

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd, all mistakes are my own.

**October 4th - Begging**

  
She’s been holding on by a thread all day and he’s being an absolute royal prick about it. Graves’ face is twisted in a knowing look, the corners of his lips crooking up and eyes dancing with a sort of mischief most would find dangerous.

The juniors avoid him today - they see that expression and their instincts send them scrambling for cover.

Smart kids.

  
Tina, on the other hand, does not feel as bright. The pressure inside her shifts, sending sparks up her spine and it makes her gasp. Her fingers slip on her coffee mug, sending the ceramic and scalding hot coffee to the floor. It shatters on marble tile. Tina dances out of the way just in time, cursing.

“You alright there, Goldstein?”

Graves stands in the door of his office, his own mug of black coffee - as black as his soul, Tina muses - between his big, strong hands. Hands perfect for gripping her, for _cupping her sex_ -

“Yes! Sir! I’m fine.”

She isn’t fine, she’s aching and throbbing and afraid there will be a wet patch on the back of her pants one of these times she stands up, and she desperately needs to come, and the focal point of her torture is standing right there.

Merlin and Morgana, she can practically smell him.

Tina knows what his aftershave smells like, tastes like on his skin, she knows its’ spicy warmth and the hint of strength hiding in it. She knows he keeps a bottle of it in that monster he calls a desk, for after he’s bent her over it and needs to clean up.

Tina whimpers, her knees buckling as a wave crashes over her, arousal so strong she thinks she might cry. Graves hisses, hand flying out and suddenly Tina finds herself suspended by a cushion of his magic, wrapped up in that static tingle which is uniquely him. In another sweep, the shattered remains of her coffee are cleaned up, and Tina floats towards Graves.

She ends up cradled against his strong chest, brought inside the cavernous space of his office with the door slamming shut behind them.

“Please,” Tina gasps, when the blanket of a silencing spell falls over the room, “Please, Mr. Graves. _Please-please-please_.”

She falls into this role so well - a needy little thing, begging to be touched, to be kissed and licked and fucked and used to his pleasure.

Tina’s back arches, pushing her tits towards him. She thinks her nipples might pierce her slip and shirt - they’re so tight, aching to be plucked and suckled. Percival just smiles down at her, fond and affectionate.

“Shh, pet,” he murmurs, “It’s not quite time yet.”

Tina whimpers. A jolt of electricity against her cunt has her squealing and curling in on herself, pressing her face into Graves’ shoulder. Her pussy clenches down on nothing. She needs something in it - needs to be filled.

“Please. Please. I need to-”

“ _Hush_.”

His tone grows sharp, impatient. Instantly - Tina knows she’s crossed a line. Her lips clamp shut, voice dying in her throat. She wonders how grave her mistake is - he’s left her wanting before, for days. Hell, she’d gone a week once, with little phantom jolts and pleasures. But never something this intense. Tina thinks she might die if she can’t come soon.

Graves carries her to his desk, and then around it. To her surprise, she finds herself deposited in the deep swell of his comfortable leather arm chair. It’s soft, well broken in and god, it smells like him. Tina presses her nose into the leather. Graves just chuckles and perches, half sitting, on the edge of his desk.

“What am I going to do with you, hmm?”

It’s rhetorical. Tina wisely doesn’t respond, instead focusing on the smooth surface against her cheek and not the gravel of his voice, not the way he’s thickening in his expensive trousers, not the memory of the last time she was in this room like this - when he fucked her mouth and then took her against the door. Tina clenches her eyes shut, fighting back a frantic whine.

It’s all she can think about - his sight, his scent, his touch, and yet it is the very thing she cannot think about. She doesn’t want punishment.

“Hmm?” Graves repeats, “I asked you a question, Goldstein.”

Shit.

Tina’s eyes fly open, a little gasp leaving her plump mouth. Percival smiles slowly, wolfishly. He looks like Fae, dark hair and black eyes and jaw too sharp, too many teeth, ears too pointed. It’s exciting, it’s terrifying. Tina’s heart picks up speed, the throbbing in her clit matching its pulse. Her hand aches to go to it, to rub it raw, so Tina distracts herself by biting the inside of her cheek before she answers, “I-I don’t know… Sir. I-please…”

One impressive eyebrow shoots towards Graves’ hairline. Tina winces, shrinking in on herself again. She’s crossed the line again, hasn’t she?

“Please what?”

“P-please… I need to come… Mr. Graves, please, I’ve done all that you asked.”

It feels like it’s been weeks since she touched herself, it has been weeks since he’s fucked her, and he’s been teasing her all day. It isn’t fair. Frustration burns under the arousal, something angry and uncomfortable that sits like weight in her gut and makes her hot and flushed.

Graves sighs, sitting back a little more on his desk. He runs a hand through his hair, shakes his head, and then says, “Alright. But-”

Tina whines.

“I have one condition.”

“ _Anything_ ,” she promises, and then realizes too late this may be a trap.

“You can’t touch yourself. You can’t touch me.”

“What? No! That’s-”

Graves interrupts her again, voice growing harsh. That’s the Director tone, all alpha, “Miss Goldstein, do you want to come or not?”

“I can’t do that,” she mumbles in reply, tears stinging. How the hell does he think she can come like that? Without any stimulation?

“It’s your choice.” Graves shrugs.

For a moment, they stare at each other, a challenge playing back and forth between their gazes. The frustration in Tina’s heart solidifies into a lead ball which travels up into her throat. To her horror, a tear slips past her lashes and flings itself down her cheek, a sob following from her mouth. Immediately, Percival’s body language changes. He jumps forward, off the table and pulls her into his arms.

“Aw, c’mon now, doll, don’t cry.”

Tina buries her face in his chest again, inhaling deeply and trying to get herself back under control. She’s so aroused it hurts, it hurts so bad. Tina knows if he takes her panties off, she’ll be swollen and red and throbbing with need.

“Shhh… That’s it, that’s my brave girl,” Percival soothes, brushing her hair from her face and drying her tears with the pad of her thumb. When they stop, he gives her a small, shy smile, “Too much?”

“Need to come. Please, Perce.”

She uses his first name - it isn’t a game anymore. Understanding warms those deep brown eyes, before Graves magics away her clothes with a flick of his fingers. Her nipples bud in the cool climate, the slick coating her inner thighs making her shiver.

“Fuck, look at you,” he breathes, eyes sweeping over her in hungry passes. Tina spreads her thighs for him, giving his big hand full access to play and caress her swollen folds and clit. Tina cries out when Percival’s calloused fingers brush against her entrance. They pass, once, twice, three times, before centering in on her clit. Tina’s back arches, a constant stream of noises bursting forth from her lips.

“Perce! O-oh Perce! Yes! _Yesyesyes oh fuck_!”

He rides her clit hard and fast, before suddenly pushing into her with his index finger. Graves crooks it, nail scraping against that rough spot just inside her, and Tina’s gone.

She’s pretty sure her vision whites out. Vaguely, she can hear Percival soothing her, can feel his arm wrapping around her to keep her from falling off his lap. Every muscle in her body seizes, her pussy clenching down on Graves’ tightly enough to be concerning. Pleasure - hot like lava, overwhelms Tina.

When it fades, she lies boneless in Graves’ lap, moaning weakly in time to the aftershocks.

“Christ,” Percival says, withdrawing his hand and digging around for a hankerchief. He wipes off his hand, and then carefully attends to her. Then, he passes an eye over her and gives her a gentle kiss.

“Go home,” he orders, “You need it.”

Tina does as she’s told.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought and come yell at me on Tumblr! You can find me at luminis-infinite.


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